Dear Harry
by Hollow Nightmare
Summary: HD slash AU After the events of HPB, Harry begins receiving curious letters from Draco Malfoy.
1. The Quidditch World Cup

Title: Dear Harry

Author: Hollow Nightmare

Rating: PG for language

Summary: After the events of HPB, Harry begins receiving curious letters from Draco Malfoy, which date back all the way the to beginning of Fourth Year. Written to show the last three books from Draco Malofy's POV. Slash, HD.

Author's Notes: The date at the top (assume it has been crossed out, not underlined) is the date in which the letter was written; the date at the bottom is the date in which the letter was sent/received.

August 25, 1994

July 1, 1997

Dear Harry,

You definitely won't be expecting this letter from me, of all people. I don't even know why I'm writing it, or why I addressed you as Harry, instead of Potty or Potter. I highly doubt I'll even send it.

We've got a strange relationship, haven't we? I'd call it mutual hate (or dislike, rather; hate's a bit dramatic, even for my tastes), but I've recently been wondering about that. In all honesty, I don't think I _properly _hate you. I've never had a reason to, except to copy my father. And the fact that you refused my friendship. I guess it wouldn't have worked out in the long run, anyway. We're enemies; you're the Boy Who Lived and I'm the son of a Death Eater.

Well, I _definitely _can't send this now.

I wonder why I still have the insane urge to write more.

I saw you today at the Quidditch match, for the first time since school let out, and now it's like you've invaded my mind. I really am such an arse to you, aren't I? But if you think I'm bad, you should hear the way father talks about you.

He was on of the men in masks earlier, but I guess you already know that. He wouldn't let me join, said I was too young. I was furious at first, but I think now that's mostly just because I was being denied something, not that I really wanted to join. As I watched them from the forest, and I listened to the screams, I decided I definitely didn't want to. It just didn't seem fun. That's all. They are filthy Muggles, of course, and it's not like I was _sickened _by their treatment, but all the same. Really, I wasn't. Not at all. But it wasn't as... _captivating _as I thought it would be. It didn't even seem funny.

I've been doing a lot of thinking recently (I do think sometimes, contrary to what you and the rest of the Dream Team may think). About important stuff, stuff I wouldn't dare write in this letter if I knew I was going to send it. I think I've changed my mind about a lot of things, and it's starting to... well, scare me.

I'm just being ridiculous. Me, Draco Malfoy, scared by a few changed perceptives? Ha.

I didn't really want to be spiteful to you today, but it just happened. It always does. I'm expected to hate you, and so I do. Or I pretend to, at any rate. It would be a lot easier (and dare I say... _nicer?) _if we didn't continuously fling insults at each other, but I can't imagine talking to you otherwise.

And I want to talk to you; I don't know why. You've just got this kind of presence that demands my attention. It would be weird to suddenly ignore you, and I can't imagine myself doing it.

If only you weren't constantly surrounded by the lowest filth I have ever met. I admit, when I saw the Mudblood today, I was quite... I would say worried, but that would imply that I care for her well-being, which I most sincerely don't. I know what would have happened to her if caught, and I'm hazarding a guess that you do too.

I would almost consider it lucky that the Dark Mark appeared when it did. If not, there most certainly would have been a number of fatalities. Do you know how it happened? There are rumors that you conjured it, but that's just bollocks. It scared father out of his wits (which is odd, considering that he seems so loyal to You-Know-Who), and I have to admit that it even scared me. Not that I'd mind him ridding our world of the filthy Mudbloods, but I... let's just say I'm not entirely sure where I stand anymore.

I cannot believe I just wrote that. I need to end this letter now, and maybe burn it. Or hide it. If father ever finds this, you'll be in luck - I'd never return to Hogwarts, and you'd never have to hear from me again.

For some reason, I really wish you didn't hate me.

From,

Draco


	2. The Triwizard Tournament

Author's Notes: Draco is writing the letters throughout his years at Hogwarts, but he's only sending them after HPB. The date underlined is the date it was written, and the date at the bottom is the date he sent it. Chapter dedicated to Junx.

September 1, 1994

July 2, 1997

Dear Harry,

This is the second letter to you, and the second I won't send. It seems a waste of time. I don't know why I bother.

I saw you on the train, of course, as usual. I seek you out every year, without even realizing it at the time. It didn't seem right that you didn't know about the Triwizard Tournament. I couldn't resist showing off that I knew more than the Weasel. (Although, in actual fact, his parents know too. Mine just weren't supposed to tell me.)

I was looking forward to entering, until they placed the age restriction. It was going to be my chance to outshine you completely. But I bet you'd have entered too, you do seem to always end up being the centre of attention. I really hate that about you. I bet you'll manage to coerce Dumbledore into letting you join, as you're his Golden Boy. I'm not even going to try; he may be an old, Muggle-loving fool, but he's no idiot.

I don't want to sound like an eager first year, but it's exciting, isn't it? I wonder who'll get chosen. I hope it's a Slytherin - I'd love to see the looks on all your faces. If it can't be me, at least be someone worthy. I wonder what it's going to be like when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive. Beauxbatons is full of nancy-pancies, but Father wanted to send me to Durmstrang. He said I'd be learning more of the Dark Arts, but I have to admit I'd rather be at Hogwarts, even if it is run by Dumbledore.

I have a feeling this year is going to be very different. It feels surreal that we're already back, and I won't have to listen to Father anymore. He's always arguing with Mother; he wants me to learn some of the more dangerous dark spells, and she's not interested. To tell the truth, it is intriguing, but I'd rather not. Learn them, that is. Father would probably disown me if he knew that.

Fancy there being no Quidditch this year. It was always the one only good thing about coming to Hogwarts. I suppose the Tournament will be interesting enough, but I wouldn't be able to partake in it. I used to love playing against you. I would always convince myself that I'd win, but I never did, in the end. Had to steal my spotlight, didn't you? I have to admit, you are the better Seeker. Since no one will ever read this, it's safe to say that Father did buy my way onto the team. I now wish he hadn't - I'd have quite liked to get on by pure skill.

Right, Pansy's being nosy as usual, so I'd better end this before she catches the name at the top.

This year will be a turning point. I can feel it.

From,

Draco


	3. Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to lost angel92. Reviews appreciated!

October 31, 1994

July 3, 1997

Dear Harry,

It seems I haven't written in a while, as school's leaving me hardly any time. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang lot arrived today, as you'll do doubt have realized (no shit, Draco). Can you believe Krum is still in school? I never knew. Weasley's face was priceless when Krum sat next to me at dinner. I was immensely pleased myself, as I'm sure anyone in their right mind would have been. He's not very talkative though, which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment.

Out of Durmstrang, I expect Krum will be chosen as the champion. I don't know Beaxbatons all that well, and I'm still holding out for a Slytherin to make Champion of Hogwarts. It's fitting, isn't it, since almost all of the rest of the school hate Slytherin. It has a sense of irony.

And what about this Age Line? It seems a bit simple for such an important event. I almost feel even I can get over it, but I'm not willing to risk it. Not that I'm a coward, but Dumbledore's speech about the dangers did kind of put me off it a bit.

Not you, though, I expect. It probably thrilled you to know that you could die at any second, didn't it? You just love getting into these deadly situations. It's quite pointless. And yet, you always manage to get your arse saved and get out of them.

I'm impressed.

Oh, I can't believe I just wrote down that I was impressed by you, of all people. I think the excitement of the Tournament is affecting my mental health. Maybe I should see Madam Pomfrey? Nah, she'll probably somehow manage to turn the conversation to you, as most professors are wont to do. I despise that, you know?

I know you like Hagrid, but I just can't understand _how. _Those Blast-Ended Skrewts or whatever they're called are the most vile, disgusting creature I have ever seen. You could tell even he didn't know what was useful about them, either. "That's next lesson, Malfoy." Yeah, as if. He just likes them because they're awful beasts. I can't help being horrible to him.

And that Weasel really irks me. The article about his family was great, and so was the chance to rub it in his face. I'd like to say I'm not normally that vindictive. I think I'm oddly jealous of the fact that he's your best friend. Not that I'd like to spend all of my time with you. Not at all. It's just the point of the matter - you turned me down for him. Not that I think we could be best friends or anything, anyway. It's only fair that since he's always boasting about it, I can brag about my parents and put his down.

I was actually surprisingly hurt when you insulted my mother. I know we're enemies, but you've never really insulted me as much as Weasley, and I wasn't expecting it from you. Things have always been harsher between me and Weasley, a sort of 'he stole you from me and now I have to retaliate' kind of thing. i just disliked you because of my father, but you... you honestly _hate _me for who I am. That kind of upsets me, in fact.

There, I've said. I don't hate you, and I'm upset that you hate me.

I think that's what caused me to attack you, that realization that I don't hate you, but you hate me. You don't know how embarrassing it was when Moody turned me into a fucking ferret. It was humiliating, being turned into a _rodent_. It was horribly painful, too. I feel like a walking bruise. It was degrading, and painful, and now even people like Hagrid are having the audacity to mock me. I bet you and the rest of the Golden Trio are laughing about it now.

I wish I hadn't been a right bastard to you. Maybe you wouldn't hate me. From now on, I'm making a promise to leave you alone.

From,

Draco


	4. The Fourth Champion

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to SilverTongue. Reviews appreciated!

October 21, 1994

July 4, 1997

Dear Harry,

Well, to say I'm surprised is an... understatement. To be honest, I know I accused you of wanting to enter, but I didn't think you'd actually _do _it. I thought you were above wanting even more fame, but I guess I was wrong.

Are you stupid, or something? Okay, so I played down the dangers, it's really worse. Father's told me some of the more gruesome stories to do with the Tournament, and you'd either have to be entirely thick or mentally insane to consider entering!

But you'd do it just for more fame. Honestly, I'm disgusted.

Although it is very suspicious, you being able to get over the Age Line but no else able to. And, not to mention the fact that you were chosen as the _second _Hogwarts champion? There's something wrong with the situation; you're so desperate you've managed to somehow hoodwink the Goblet into choosing another player.

I bet Diggory's furious that he's not all that special anymore. Even though he's a nancy boy, I'd rather him win than you; at least he didn't cheat. It was a very Slytherin thing to do, except not even we are that low. I'm not impressed.

It gave us all a shock, as you can imagine. Your face was great, but you can't have been that surprised, as you entered yourself. I'll bet you've actually managed to lose a lot of popularity, instead of gaining it. You're no longer a modest, noble, kind guy, but an attention-seeking, fame-stealing prick.

I hope you're happy. I hope you regret it when things become too tough for you.

From,

Draco


	5. Support Cedric Diggory

Author's Notes: Remember, these are _letters._ Letters do not go on for a hundred pages, especially when you're mad with the person. So yes, some will be short, some will be longer. Chapters will only be Draco's letters to Harry - but the last one will be a letter from Harry to Draco.

November 21, 1994

July 5, 1997

Dear Harry,

I'm not so sure anymore that you really _did _put your name into the Goblet. It seems a ridiculous thing to do, even for you, considering how dangerous it's supposed to be.

Not to mention your reaction to it. I've watched you (taking extra care to make sure you didn't notice, as I was supposed to be ignoring you), and you seem downright pissed off. I can understand that you're mad that everyone hates you at the moment, but you've really got to stop blowing up at people. It's not helping any.

Weasley's becoming a bother to you too, I'm pleased to see. Actually, truthfully, I'm not. You two are (were?) really good friends, and even though I hate Weasley for it, you need him. He's a fucking prat for abandoning you now. Even I can see that he doesn't hate you, though - he's just _jealous._ But he should get over it; it's obvious you need more support at the moment.

It looks as though the only people who have really stuck by your are the Mudblood and that great oaf Hagrid. I wasn't fooled for a second when he dragged you away in class to "Help him with the big one." He just wanted to talk to you, which isn't so bad, but pisses me off that I can't talk to you. If I was friends with you, I wouldn't just abandon you like the fucking Weasel brat.

I'm sorry about those badges, really. They were actually Nott's idea, but you know him (or, well, you don't, actually). He forced me to claim them as my idea, and it would be highly suspicious if I refused. I personally think they're rather pointless, and completely mundane. The "POTTER STINKS" bit is just so immature. I was going to say something apologetic when you saw them, when I realized I just _couldn't_, so all that came out was "Like them, Potter?" I am such a prat.

I should've known you'd have all this pent up anger, and that it would come out if I insulted your only real friend at the time. I would have let you take it out on me (Merlin, why amI _admitting _this?), but it was so much safer to have a duel. Didn't work out, anyway, as neither of us got it, and it just put you in an even fouler mood when Snape arrived.

And I, being the pillock I am, had to keep flashing the goddamn badge at you. I know I made a promise to ignore you, but I just can't. It's not even pleasant to fight with you, but it's better than not talking to you _at all. _I don't know why I have this weird fixation with you, but I can't just pretend you're not there. I'll take anything I can, and if that means only arguments and insults and duels, then so be it. It's so pathetic.

Snape was in a horrible mood after Creevey left with you for the photo shoot. Once, I'd have thought that you'd love making the front page of the paper, but I've been watching you for a while now, and somehow I don't think you actually do.

Which is a shame, since you did make the front page.

"Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them"? Is this really true? It's encouraging, of course, to know that you do things as humiliating as cry, but I somehow don't really believe it. Which is quite disappointing.

"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts." God, I hope not, I think I'd start gagging. And with Mudblood Granger, of all people. How sick is that? I'm beginning to get suspicious, though. You do spend a lot of time around her, and she doesn't seem to be making a big fuss of denying it.

... I really hope you're not dating her. I don't know why. You don't go well together. That's all. It just doesn't... look right.

Oh, why in the bloody hell am I obsessing over you and your potential girlfriend? That's it. Enough.

From,

Draco


	6. The First Task

Author's Notes: Harry _is_ getting these letters, he's just getting them a couple years after they've been written. He's getting them in July 1997 (the bottom of the two dates). Chapter dedicated to hiddengoddess36. Reviews appreciated!

November 24, 1994

July 6, 1997

Dear Harry,

Oh my God. That was just... You scared the bleeding daylights out of me! There, I've said it; I was slightly freaked out. I mean, I knew the tasks weren't going to be easy, but I didn't exactly think you'd be facing dragons, either!

It came as a shock, that's for sure, when I realized what you had to do. I think I was even a little bit _worried. _When you got hit, I think I nearly stopped breathing.

I take back whatever bad things I've said about you and the Tournament. You have to have guts to do that, _and _you have to be bloody crazy to sign up for it. I wouldn't have been able to do that, no matter what I say. Genius idea, but just... gah.

God, even just _thinking_ about it makes my heart start beating faster. It was gut-wrenching. It was terrifying. And I was only _watching_. I do not want to have to watch you go through something like that again. I think I might pass out, or freak out, or just _die_. You really had me scared there. I was honestly terrifyingly frightened that you wouldn't make it.

I'm not even going to begin analyzing why I'm suddenly worrying about you like crazy. Not that I'd admit it to you, of course.

From,

Draco


	7. Christmas and the Yule Ball

Author's Notes: Harry will respond - _at the end. _Chapter dedicated to reflectivelvet. Reviews appreciated!

December 25, 1994

July 7, 1997

Dear Harry,

Eugh, I think I've been contaminated. Yuck. Trust me, I'm never taking Pansy Parkinson anywhere with me again, if I can help it. Not only does she annoy the hell out of me, she _slobbers. _She insisted on kissing me before the night ended, but it was just gross. Snogging is not supposed to be like that.

I wonder if you kissed your date. Probably not; I can imagine you all red-faced and bumbling. Ha. I can't believe you took that Patil girl, out of all the girls you could have picked.

I grudgingly admit that you looked okay in your dress robes (nothing like me, of course). Better than normal. I don't know why I noticed this, but it's the truth. Whatever. Besides, despite the fact that you might have looked alright (loath as I am to admit it), you certainly didn't _act _like a reasonable date. I noticed that you completely ignored Patil, and for some reason I found that I was quite pleased by that.

I really don't like her.

You're a horrid dancer, really. I couldn't stop watching you because you were so bad. I've had lessons, of course (being a Malfoy), but I didn't think it was possible to be that bad and still call it dancing.

Maybe you were distracted by stupid Granger (if the rumors are true and you are besotted with her), and how she managed to put herself together. I don't understand why she doesn't do it more often, as the she could actually look _okay _like that, but I'm oddly pleased that she doesn't spend a lot of time around you looking like that. It's somehow easier to think of you two spending time together when I imagine her as an ugly bookworm.

I don't know how she managed to convince Krum to take her. I honestly thought he was of higher class than that, but I must have been wrong. In fact, he's been a bit of a disappointment. Hardly as interesting as I first believed him to be. He's almost as bad as Granger, spending all his time in the library. How utterly boring.

In fact, I found the entire ball just simply dull. I detest these social events. There wasn't even any proper drink, the music was horrid, and I had to watch you dancing with that hideous Patil. Not to mention the fact that I had to snog Pansy after.

I wonder if you managed to snog Patil tonight.

I really don't want to think about that.

Oh, Merry Christmas, by the way.

From,

Draco


	8. Hagrid's Giant Mistake

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to ME. Reviews appreciated!

January 4, 1995

July 8, 1997

Dear Harry,

Sometimes I really hate myself. No, seriously. I can be such a bastard at times, it's unbelievable. I know how Rita Skeeter's getting the information for these articles, but I actually _helped_ her write this last one. To be fair, Father made it perfectly clear I had to, but all the same, I should have done something better.

I hadn't really expected him to stop teaching. And you just looked so confused and lost and angry when he didn't show up. It was obvious you hadn't seen the article, and I was feeling downright horrible for helping write it (I may be a bastard, but I don't particularly take pleasure in _seriously _ruining people's lives), and I don't know, something in me just decided I _couldn't _be that mean to you today.

"Oh, he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking," I said softly. _Softly. _I said words to you in a nice way, which was so utterly stupid. I immediately had to counteract them, obviously.

Though I smirked when I said "Hate to break it to you, Potter..." I really did mean it. I knew you'd be furious and upset by the article, and I must be ill today, because I didn't _want_ you to feel upset.

And you verbally _attacked_ me after you'd read it. I had been trying to help, to not be vindictive and evil and cruel, and then you spat and raged at me, and I really must be feeling ill, because I suddenly wanted to _cry._ I could feel my eyes watering and everything, so I quickly had to say some harsh words before anyone noticed.

It's unbelievable, really. It's pathetic. I am so pathetic at times. I can't believe I nearly _cried, _just because you shouted at me when I was trying to help.

I wish things weren't so complicated anymore. I wish I could go back to first year, when it was just, 'I have to beat Potter' and not like now, where I suddenly don't want to see you hurt, I worry about you, and yet I still manage to do things that get you to hate me even more. Where I suddenly have second thoughts about everything to do with you.

Why can't things just be simple again?

From,

Draco


	9. The Second Task

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to Sailor-Moon. Reviews appreciated!

February 24, 1995

July 9, 1997

Dear Harry,

Oh my God, this was just as bad as the First Task. I don't know how I'm going to survive the Third, if it's anything like these.

Bagman had explained to us what the champions were going to do long before you showed up, and by then I was already feeling nervous. I was starting to get really anxious, and then you came sprinting down like lunatic. I can't believe you were nearly _late_ for something like this.

And, oh God, people were _laughing _at you when you walked into the water. Didn't they realize how dangerous this stupid thing was? I had to pretend to laugh too, of course, but it sounded forced even to myself. I could just find no amusement.

And then you went underwater, and we couldn't see anything that was going on. That was even worse, not knowing if you were alright or in serious danger. Conversation broke out, and everyone was chattering over the different champions' approaches, but I could barely _listen _to them, let alone talk back.

It was nerve-racking, sitting there and wondering how you were faring. If you were still alive or not. I was so nervous I could barely think; I just kept getting these flashes of you being attacked by the Giant Squid, or lying drowned at the bottom of the lake.

Then Delacour showed up, being dragged by one of the merpeople. I think I actually winced when I realized that she, a seventeen year old witch with much more magical knowledge than you, had failed.

We waited until the hour ended, and I was growing increasingly antsy. Diggory showed up just a minute late, and then Krum, but there was still no sign of you. After that, it felt like you were down there for _ages._

Oh God, I never want to feel like that again. I kept waiting to see you emerge, but you didn't. It was terrifying. I thought you had drowned. I thought you were dead. It's lucky I was next to brainless Crabbe and Goyle - they didn't notice I was clutching my seat so hard that my knuckles were white and my fingers were numb for a long time afterwards.

I was such a terrified, worried, nervous wreck, that I almost had a panic attack when you still didn't show up after another ten minutes. I think I forgot to breathe, and it was lucky that you showed up just a second after, or I might have fainted.

I nearly did faint when you showed, but in relief. You _weren't_ dead, thank God.

I was so pleased by that fact, it completely cancelled out my anger that Weasley was the thing you'd miss most, and my exasperation that you had the little girl with you as well. I immediately knew what you had done (you have a bit of a hero complex, don't you?), and you were very lucky that the judges considered it as showing moral fiber.

Oh, that was terrifying. I still feel horrified, and I'm actually shaking. I can't explain why I was so worried for you, I just was. It just scares me to think of what could have happened to you.

I never want to feel like that again. Thank God the Third Task isn't until June.

From,

Draco


	10. Hermione Granger, Scarlet Woman

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to Hahukum Konn. Reviews appreciated!

March 5, 1995

July 10, 19997

Dear Harry,

I've noticed you've been sending/receiving a fair amount of mail recently, and it's got me curious as to who your mystery correspondent is. You always look serious about these letters, but I hope it's nothing too important. You've got enough things on your mind as it is.

That being said, I hope they're not love letters from Granger, either.

I hope you're not going out with Granger. That's just... Well. It's just... Hmm. Disgusting. I'm getting my suspicions, though, and I don't like it.

Not from the actual article in Witch Weekly, of course, but from the way you two act about it. Neither of you are straightforward denying it. Even when that stupid Granger received bloody hate mail, she didn't say anything.

And when you read the article, that was the worst. How thick could you be, to read it in Snape's class, right under his nose? And Granger started _blushing_ after she read it. _Blushing._ I do not like the look of that, at all. And you didn't look that bothered by it. Granger was blushing, Weasley looked upset (I imagine he's jealous?), but you were okay.

Of course their arguing was bound to attract Snape's attention. I know he has this bizarre grudge against you, and while I used to take delight in it, I found what he did that day was just not acceptable. It's one thing to put you own for your hideous potion skills, but quite another for something that has nothing to do with him.

I can't believe he read the article out loud. That was really going too far, and it made me slightly enraged. I normally admire him, but he stooped very low that day. And then he continued to provoke you, I noticed that too. I could see how livid you were getting, and I could see that he liked it. I'd never really considered him a bastard before, but at that moment, I suddenly understood why you did. I could see and hear everything that was going on between you, and I was fuming. I'm still pissed off with him.

Imagine what Father would say if he knew I was angry at Snape on your behalf. And that I spent a lot of time wondering whether you are really dating Granger. I hope you're not.

From,

Draco


	11. The Boy Who Lived, Safe?

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to -little oro-. Reviews appreciated!

May 31, 1995

July 11, 1997

Dear Harry,

I haven't written in along time, have I? I guess I've not had anything to really write about. Until now, perhaps.

I have to admit that I was quite worried for your health when I heard the rumors about you collapsing in Divination. I figured, though, that it was just a headache and that you had a slight cold. But when I heard you went to Dumbledore's office, I started to think that it was more than that.

What it could have been, I don't know, but I don't think it was just a simple headache.

Of course, Rita Skeeter got wind of it in that illegal way of hers, and she had to right another degrading article about you. It's not coming out until the 24th, but I already know what it will say, as she's shown me. I don't really believe anything of that crap she wrote, of course, but I have to pretend I do, or people will be suspicious.

"This could be a plea for attention." Yeah, right. I know how much you hate the attention (or I do now, anyway). I don't claim to understand why your scar sometimes hurts (is it just a medical reaction, perhaps? Maybe scars twinge sometimes?), but I know it's not just for attention. And yes, it's true that you speak Parseltongue, but so what? Okay, perhaps it would frighten me slightly if I didn't already know a lot of stuff about the Dark Arts, but any fool can see you're not evil.

The article is worrying. Not in that I'm worried about you attacking us all or going insane, but I'm worried you're not alright, that there are things about you that could cause you harm.

I have really got to stop worrying about you.

You'll see the article in a few weeks, when it finally gets published. I can't believe she's deciding to publish it on the day of the Third Task, but that's how she is. God, I'm already starting to get nervous about it, but at least it's the last one.

I hope you do well. Good luck.

From,

Draco


	12. The Third Task

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to Lady Silverhawk. Reviews appreciated!

24 June, 1995

July 12, 1997

Dear Harry,

Oh my fucking God, what the fuck happened tonight? _What happened? _I don't... I... I think I'm going to be sick. I don't understand what happened. Nothing makes sense anymore. This is surreal. This can't be happening. I don't believe it.

What happened tonight?

You entered the maze, and I remember I was feeling that horrible nervousness again, and the worry, and the fear, and then I couldn't see you, and I just had to wait, and I was terrified again.

And then there was a scream, and even though I knew it was Delacour, I found myself clenching my fists and having trouble breathing. Red sparks were sent up, and I kept thinking that it had happened so early in, and that things must be really bad in there.

Then there were more screams, but these were masculine, and I couldn't immediately tell who they were from, and I felt _sick _and horrible, and was sweating all over and hoping that it wasn't you. But when red sparks were sent up, it was Krum that returned.

Then there was more yelling, then everything went deadly silent, and I knew something was wrong. I was growing agitated, I needed to know what happened, but nobody was doing anything.

I noticed the commotion going on by the judges' table, and I just needed to know what was wrong, whether you were okay, whether you were hurt, or... oh God, I can't even say it. I escaped from Crabbe and Goyle before they noticed anything, but when I got to the judges' table, I was feeling sick with dread. I was far enough not to look suspicious, andt close enough to hear some of what they were talking about, but I could only hear snippets.

"- gone -"

"- just disappeared - don't know what - how -"

"- cup - portkey? -"

"- where -"

I understood the gist of it, and as I stood clutching onto a rail, I felt my stomach drop. They didn't know what was happening either. Things were out of control, there had been a mistake, something had gone wrong, and they didn't know what, or how to fix it, or what was going on, or where you were...

I don't know how long I stood there, feeling terrified, in shock, thinking you were dead, but it must have been at least an hour. People were becoming confused, the professors and judges were whispering furiously and having quiet but heated, nervous conversations, and I was stuck frozen to the spot, feeling as if I would keel over any moment.

I just... I don't understand. What happened? How did it happen? How could no one have any idea about what was going on?

And then... you returned.

Just in front of us, in front of the judges' table, right where you had started. And when I saw you lying there, not moving, I swear my heart stopped beating. It just _stopped._

And then commotion broke out in the stands, and Dumbledore was pulling you up, and I saw that there was an actual body in the grass, and that it was Diggory, and he was _dead. _And then the Minister was there, and people were screaming and crying, and you were looking so lost and defeated, I desperately wanted to check you were okay, but I couldn't _move,_ I was so relieved and worried and confused. I saw Moody take you away, and the Minister said a few words, but I wasn't listening. I had collapsed to my knees on the ground.

And I haven't seen you since, and I'm worried _sick, _and I need to know that you're alright, and I need to know what happened, if you're okay. I just don't understand what happened. I'm shaking, I'm terrified out of my wits, and I'm frantic.

Oh Merlin, please tell me you're okay.

From,

Draco


	13. On the Way Home

Author's Notes: Wow, I got so many reviews for this chapter! Don't worry, this is not the last chapter, there are more to come. Chapter dedicated to binaryfaye. Reviews appreciated!

July 3, 1995

July 13, 1997

Dear Harry,

I still don't fully know what happened, but I think I'm beginning to.

The morning after, I noticed you weren't at breakfast, and I felt that frantic worry again that perhaps you had died last night, but then Dumbledore said that we were to leave you alone, which meant you were alive.

I think most people are scared of you, but I'm somehow scared _for_ you. No one really knows what happened. There are rumors that you killed Diggory, but I can't believe that.

Last night at Hogwarts, Dumbledore made that speech, and I think it really hit me, what happened. Or nearly happened. You nearly _died._ I didn't just have the irrational fear that you'd drown or get burnt by a dragon, but you literally nearly did _die_.

I think I was in shock for at least an hour. I think I still am.

I can't believe Voldemort's back. He's actually back. He's alive. He wants to kill you. I don't think that has really sunk in, yet. The fact that he nearly did kill you, though, has. I had to clutch the table to stop myself from falling over when I realized that.

Goyle noticed, surprisingly. I muttered to him that I was fine, but that was a complete lie. You had nearly _died. _I had nearly never been able to see you again. This is just... Merlin.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts."

The words have been haunting me since. I couldn't move when I first heard them. I don't understand why I've suddenly started caring and worrying about you, but the fact remains that I have. Enough to freeze and almost faint when I realize you nearly died.

On the train back, I threw a fit at you. I was out of my mind by the fact that you might not have been on the train back, and that you were still in danger, even more now than last year. I couldn't stand the fact that you were still in danger, and I went crazy. Tried to prove that I had tried helping you, tried warning you, but I went about it in the entirely wrong way.

And when I woke up from the curses you hexed me with, I still hadn't properly calmed down, although I managed to hide it. And you were gone.

I don't know how I'm going to survive the summer without hearing if you're okay.

From,

Draco


	14. The Truth Comes Out

Author's Notes: These letters will continue till the end of HBP. Chapter dedicated to It's ME!. Reviews appreciated!

July 10, 1995

July 14, 1997

Dear Harry,

I... I don't know what to say. I just...

I found out what happened when you touched the cup. My father was there, which you knew. And he wasted no time in telling me. He _laughed_ about it.

I... oh God. I can't believe anyone can be that heartless. I can't believe you had to go _through _that. I... I'm so sorry...

He didn't know what happened when you first arrived, of course, but he heard the story from You-Know-Who - V... Voldemort. There, I've said it. Voldemort. VOLDEMORT.

He heard the story, how Pettigrew brewed the potion and he came back. How he murdered Diggory. And then my father arrived, and he narrated the rest of the story perfectly well - too well.

You were _tied _to that grave, and you had to watch it all, helpless... I... And they ignored you, no one tried to help you. I mean, I know they're Death Eaters and they're meant to kill you, but... my God.

And Voldemort told them all how he returned, and my father saw for himself how much pain you feel when Voldemort touches you. He explained to me why, but I didn't understand.

And then you were supposed to duel him, but they were really mocking you, because they knew you were no match for him... Harry, I... And then my father turned cold, and told of what happened when your wands connected, and how you escaped, and I'm just so glad that you _did._

I can't... I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through right now. But you don't know what it's like here, where Father invites the other Death Eaters around and they talk about it.

They avoid talking about your escape, as I think they find it shameful, but they spend hours mocking your duel with Voldemort. I listened to them once, and... oh, Harry, they were _laughing_ about it. And I felt terrified, and sick, and nauseous, and...

I... I'm just so sorry you had to... I'm just so sorry.

I hope you'll be okay.

From,

Draco


	15. Trial for the Patronus

Author's Notes: No, Draco will _not_ die at the end. Sorry for the lack of updates. Chapter dedicated to angelfirenze. Please review!

September 1, 1995

July 15, 1997

Dear Harry,

Im so relieved, it's unbelievable. I honestly thought you were going to be expelled when I heard about your trial. Father told me what happened, but he didn't tell me why you used magic. Are you just an idiot, or did something happen? And your words? "Yeah, I'm good at escaping"? I have to give you points for that; it was an excellent line, and you had the guts to say it. To my father, no less.

I had to check you were on the train today. I didn't know, and it was driving me mad. What would I have done if you hadn't returned to school? When I saw you, it was like I had dropped a weight from my chest, or whatever.

And then you went and verbally attacked me again. This time, before I'd even said a word. I had to retaliate, of course. Did you notice the warning I slipped into my last line, about dogging? I hope you caught it. I don't know what was so important about that dog, but father made a great deal out of it, and I thought you should know.

I suppose you haven't been getting the Daily Prophet all summer, but someone must have told you about it. The Ministry's turning you into some joke. I can't believe Fudge is refusing to believe that V-Voldemort's back. It's going to create a lot of trouble for him, and even more for you.

I know the truth, of course, of what happened. I wish I didn't, as it's been haunting me (God only knows how you must feel), and I _would_ offer my support, but I can't.

Just know that I definitely believe you, whatever I may say later.

From,

Draco


	16. Professor Umbridge

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to rayama. Please review!

September 2, 1995

July 16, 1997

Dear Harry,

I don't believe you. It was only your first DADA lesson, and you already created a whole grand tale of it. The story's been circling, and I don't know whether to be exasperated that you've already caused an enemy in the professor, or proud that you didn't back down.

I heard it from a trustworthy source, not full of gossip, so I know what really happened. Honestly, no one is going to believe you about the Third Task if you go about it that way. They'll think you're deranged, and you're not making it any easier on yourself.

Why is everything to do with you always so bloody complicated?

I know Diggory's a touchy subject with you, and that Umbridge is a foul cow, but you have to ignore her, really. Don't let her get to you, you'll just feel worse. Father thinks it would be beneficial for me to get on her good side, so I'm going to have to, but I just can't _stand_ her.

I wish people would shut up about Diggory; they can't see how upset you are about it. It's almost like they're blind or something. Do they really expect to get the story out of you that way, if at all?

I know where Hagrid is, even if I've been forbidden to tell anyone. My father's heard all about it, and he's related it all to me. I can't outright tell you, but I tried giving you hints in Care of Magical Creatures, when no one could hear me. I hope you understood them, but I doubt it. You just got really angry instead.

Things aren't going to be easy for you this year. People are suspicious of you and they don't believe you, Voldemort's after you, I'm going to have to fight you with as usual, Hagrid's missing, and to top it off, we've got Umbridge as a professor.

But you'll get by. You'll cope. You always do, in the end.

From,

Draco


	17. Hogwarts' High Inquisitor

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to TheseBrokenWings. Please review!

September 10, 1995

July 17, 1997

Dear Harry,

I don't know what made me want to watch you fly the other day. I just hadn't seen you play Quidditch in so long, I guess. And I needed to check out the opposition. Of course. That must be it.

Weasley's a rubbish flyer. I can't _believe_ he was chosen for the team. Johnson must have been out of her mind. He's absolutely dreadful. Pansy even started composing a song about it, which was quite amusing, but I made her hush up about it.

I don't know why I'm suddenly vaguely trying to protect your friends. I know you care about them, but I don't, so I don't really understand.

I'm trying to find out everything I can about Hagrid. Not because I like him (I despise him, the great oaf), but because you do, and I can tell how worried you are. I'm not getting very far, though. But you don't even realize that I'm trying to help at all. When Umbridge asked about injuries during Care of Magical Creatures, I quickly told about the attack by the Hippogriff so that Goyle wouldn't make up a load of crap, but you took even that the wrong way.

To more serious matters, I wish I knew how you were. I can't really tell just by watching you, and it's getting me vaguely worried again. I haven't heard more about you collapsing or anything, but I tried to slip in a question about your scar when you were practicing Quidditch. It came out the wrong way, but it was a sincere question.

Why is it that whenever I try to help you in someway, you always manage to turn it against me? Or I have to hide it, so no one gets suspicious.

It would be so much easier if I could really just _talk _to you, but we both know that will never happen.

Wish it would.

From,

Draco


	18. Loony and Insane

Author's Notes: Chapter dedicated to MadleyTassida and BlazeSplinder Froste. Please leave review!

October 7, 1995

July 18, 1997

Dear Harry,

Can you believe the nerve of her? That utterly foul _cow._ What is this shit about not being allowed after school clubs? Why the fuck not? She's utterly loony.

I heard about you wanting to start a club about defense. I also heard about you teaching it. I can't really imagine you doing it, but at the same time it oddly fits you. I would've liked to join (just to see what its about, nothing more), but I suppose you've stopped now that she's placed a ban. We both know she'd never approve it.

She let us Slytherins have our Quidditch team back, which is no big surprise. Father managed to get on her good side, and so have I (I think) so she'll let us get away with anything.

What was wrong with Longbottom that day in Potions when I was talking about you being insane? I was only mocking you, but he's seen me do that before. Why did he react so violently that time? I don't think he's ever startled me that much. I was really surprised. Whatever.

I ams sorry for calling you insane, by the way, but the other Slytherins were finding it odd that I hadn't really talked bad about you in a while, so I had to do something.

Your scar's alright, I hope. Father told me (or, rather, laughed about you) that it might be a bit odd now that Voldemort's back, but you seem okay. I think.

You would tell someone if something bad happened, right? I've noticed you generally keep things to yourself, but this is important. You shouldn't be keeping something like that to yourself. You should tell someone if something bad's happened, okay? Dumbledore? Weasley, Granger?

Me? But we both know that will _never_ happen, no matter how much I want to help you.

From,

Draco


	19. The Quidditch Ban

Author's Notes: Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but otherwise it would have dragged. I know you want longer chapters, but I can't promise anything. Please leave a review!

November 2, 1995

July 19, 1997

Dear Harry,

I can't believe her. I know I've said it before, but I just _can't believe her. _How can someone be so - so... argh!

She banned you from _ever_ playing Quidditch? That's just - my _God_. The _bitch._ All we did was fight - and, I mean, we've done that before! She had no right to - ugh!

But even still, _ow. _I know what I said was out of line, and I honestly don't know what made me say it. I'm really sorry. But did you have to hit so _hard? _Madam Pomfrey said she could heal it, and she did help, but she also said she wouldn't heal me completely, as some sort of punishment. I've never been good with pain, so this is like torture.

I can't believe I'm throwing away my pride to admit this, but I suppose I did deserve it. I insulted both you and the Weasley family, and I guess I hit a nerve. I really have to stop mentioning your parents. I was right bastard to bring it up.

Ha, and these bruises are to prove that I wish I hadn't. Not just because of the pain, but because I intentionally _hurt _you, and I don't even know why. I was just so angry that you'd won _again_, and I lost control or something. I really wish I hadn't done it. I'm such an idiot.

I'm really sorry. I didn't mean at all to get you banned from playing. I know you love Quidditch, so you must be feeling even more shit than me. This was just like some grand nightmare of a day.

I'd make it up to you, but I don't know how, or if I even could.

Sorry, Harry. Really.

From,

Draco


	20. Awful Taste

Author's Notes: Yes, these extend to the end of the sixth book. Please leave a review!

February 14, 1996

July 20, 1997

Dear Harry,

Can you believe it? The mass breakout from Azkaban, I mean. I know Black didn't do it, Voldemort did. Hell, I've even _met_ some of the prisoners, during the Christmas holidays.

Not something I want to repeat, and not something I really want to talk about, either.

That Care of Magical Creatures class was... enlightening. I mean, I obviously knew you'd be able to see Thestrals (if I had known what they were), but I hadn't really thought about it that way.

I heard what Granger said to you, about how she'd like to seem them. Honestly, has the girl got no _tact?_ This was bound to drag up bad memories for you. I don't know how you can stand to be around her.

I heard about your disastrous date with Chang, if you can call it that. Even I can understand girls better than that, really. What on earth did you bring up the Granger girl for? Why the hell did you ask Chang out anyway? She goes through boyfriends as often as Weasley misses the Quaffle. She's not even that pretty, and she's always _crying. _I don't know how you can stand to be around _her_, either.

You really do have awful taste with girls. Look who you spend your time with; Granger, Chang, that little Weasley brat, and I even saw you with Loony Lovegood once.

I can't stand any of them. I hate them all.

I was watching you across the Great Hall this morning. You really should try to brush your hair better. But I suppose it does look alright kind of ruffled, almost -

Oh my God, I was about to say _cute_. I don't know what's wrong with me.

I keep getting this nagging feeling at the back of my head whenever I look at you, like I'm missing something. In fact, I'm getting a bit suspicious. Actually, this whole letter is a bit off. I've talked about how much I hate the girls you're with, and how I find your hair _cute_. And what about that feeling I get whenever I see you? Like a jolt, in my stomach. It's not exactly unpleasant, just... there. And I seem to find myself always watching you, lately - and not only out of worry. I sometimes spend ages staring at you when I know you're perfectly safe.

Something's odd about all that. I'm beginning to think...

Oh no.

I think... I think I was wrong when I said I kept wanting to talk to you, to be your friend. I do want to talk to you, but I don't think it's friends that I want to be...

I think - oh Merlin.

I think I might _like _you. As in _like_ like. As in I _fancy_ you.

Oh no, this is a _disaster_. With a capital _D. _You're _Harry Potter. _We're enemies. You hate me, I act like a bastard to you. We can't even hold one civil conversation. My father wants you dead, and Voldemort's out to kill you. You're a boy too, come to think of it. My father would _disown_ me.

This is like... oh my God, I just can't believe myself. What is my _problem_? Where do I get off, thinking like this? This would never work out, it's impossible. I've got to _stop_ thinking like this, before I drive myself insane.

No one must know. If this ever gets out, I'm dead. How the hell am I supposed to act normal around you, when I've got _this_ hanging over my head?

_What is wrong with me?_

Love (from! I meant from!),

Draco


	21. The Inquisitorial Squad

Author's Notes: Yes, it is now obvious that this will be a Harry/Draco slash story. To my reviewers: I LOVE YOU ALL. No, seriously. I do. You're the best.

April 6, 1996

July 21, 1997

Dear Harry,

I thought I might stop writing these letters after that last revelation, but I found too much has happened to _not_ write them.

Umbridge as Headmistress? Ugh. It's stupid, and Fudge is a crackpot old fool for allowing it. She's going to make this school a living hell, I tell you. I suppose it is kind of my fault... but I can't really be sure, as I don't even know what happened.

She cornered me in the hallways, and I had to find you and hand you over to her. She'd found out about your defense club (why was it still going on, anyway?), and I guess she took you up to Dumbledore's office to expel you. I don't know what happened there, but everyone now knows that Dumbledore's on the run from the Ministry, and you're one of the few that know how/why.

What happened in there? Why weren't you expelled, and why's Dumbledore hiding now? Harsh as it is, I think I'd still prefer things this way - I mean, Dumbledore may be gone and we have Umbridge as Headmistress, but at least you're still here.

I don't think I'd cope very well with you not being here. You're a large part of my life now, and I...

I can't say it.

I... I _care_ about you. There, said it. I care about you. I like you. I fancy you.

It actually feels quite good to just write this down.

But to more pressing matters, don't do anything stupid. You were completely daft to carry on your defense club when she'd threatened expulsion, and now that Dumbledore's done, things will be a lot worse.

I tried to warn you, that day you found out about me being part of the Inquisitorial Squad (not that I want to be, but father's remarkably persuasive). "Be good now, Potty," I said. What I really meant was, "Don't be stupid and put yourself in more danger. These are dangerous times, so _be careful_."

That article in the _Quibbler_, though definitely not careful, was excellent. I can't believe you went out into the open with what happened. People will respect you for that, I think. I know I do. It can't have been easy, talking about it again, and especially knowing that everyone would hear what you said.

Well done, but don't do anything stupid like that again. Umbridge will have your head, and then where will I be?

Love - from,

Draco


	22. The Weapon

Author's Notes: Sorry for slow updating - life is hectic, so this might unfortunately continue for a while. I'm not sure how many chapters there will be (slightly over 30, I think), but it's nothing really to do with the number of days in July. There will be the letter on the day of Dumbledore's death, then a letter from Draco explaining everything, and then the last one. But I still have to get through book six, don't I?

June 18, 1996

July 22, 1997

Dear Harry,

What happened? _Again?_ Oh, why do things always have to happen to you? You'll drive me insane, if you haven't already. Where are you? I don't know what's going on. You're missing, though, and I'm going crazy. I searched everywhere for you, but you never came back, and I heard some Gryffindor's saying you weren't in your common room. There's a whole group of students missing, and some of the professors are even getting worried.

_Where the hell are you? _

I knew today was not going to be good, but I didn't think I'd be tearing my hair out and wondering where the hell you were, or whether you were still alive.

What happened in the History of Magic exam? One minute you were sleeping and I was getting all exasperated, then next you were screaming your lungs out and you were falling off the chair and everyone was staring at you, and I kept thinking, 'Oh God, what's happening, is he okay?'

And then Umbridge was dragging your head out of her fire and bending your head so far back I thought your neck would snap. Who was it that you were so desperate to talk to? What was so important to seriously risk expulsion?

And then Warrington arrived with a whole group of students, and I realized you had actually planned this little fire-talk, and Umbridge was going to expel you for sure, and I felt this hysterical laughter bubbling up inside of me. The situation was totally out of my control.

Then Snape had no Veritaserum, and Umbridge was going to... My God, she was going to put you under the Cruciatus Curse. She was going to torture you! And I just stared at her, and I felt sick, and I couldn't think of a way to stop her!

But that idiot Granger revealed your plan about a weapon, and Umbridge took you away. You utter fool, what kind of weapon could you be building right under Umbridge's nose? And I wanted to see what it was, to go with you and try and help, but she wouldn't _let me. _That was my chance to help you, and I couldn't!

And then your friends escaped, and now you're _all_ missing, and _I don't know what to do. _Where are you? Are you okay? Did Umbridge do anything to you? Oh God, please tell me you're alright. Please tell me you'll be back soon and that nothing bad happened.

I'm feeling sick, and nauseous, and faint, and I can't help thinking that if I'd gone with you, you wouldn't have disappeared. But you're still not back, and I'm shaking and sick with worry, and _where the hell are you?_

Oh, please, please, _please,_ tell me you're okay.

Love,

Draco


	23. Prisoner of Azkaban

Author's Notes: You might be a bit... surprised with this chapter. Heh. Please review!

June 21, 1996

July 23, 1997

Potter,

Screw whatever I said in my last few letters to you. I don't care about you, I don't fancy you. I hate you and I hope you die. Preferably painfully, at that, you low-life bastard _scum._

Father's in Azkaban. Because of _you. _If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be there, and I'd still _have _a father. I wish you'd died that night. Mother's completely distressed, I can't speak to my father, and that's _it_. In one go, you've rid me of my parents, and I _hate_ you for it.

I admit I don't know what happened at the Ministry, but quite frankly, I don't give a _fuck._ Because of you, father went, and because of you, he's now in Azkaban. I can't even talk to him.

But you wouldn't know what it feels like, would you? You don't even have a father. Serves you right, I think. What _right_ do you have to get _mine_ thrown in prison?

I don't care that he was a Death Eater, and that he wasn't particularly nice to anyone, including me. He was still my father, my blood, and now he's just another Azkaban prisoner. But don't worry, he won't be there long if Voldemort has anything to do with it.

You're lucky Snape and McGonagall arrived when they did, because I would have hexed your balls right off and left you to die.

And so the whole bloody world knows about Voldemort's return now?

_Who bloody cares?_

Mark my words, Potter. You'll pay for this. Oh yes, you'll pay.

- Draco Malfoy


	24. The Department of Mysteries

Author's Notes: No, Draco will not die at the end. I am going on holiday for two weeks, so don't expect an update until I come back... Thanks for the reviews, and please leave another one!

July 1, 1996

July 24, 1997

Dear Harry,

Don't hate me. Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry. I feel wretched, and guilty, and just horrible. I should never have blamed you for what happened at the Ministry, or my father being sent away.

I hadn't known what went on there, but I do now. I heard Bellatrix Lestrange telling my mother all about it, as I hid around the corner and tried not to be sick all over the floor. She's... she's mad, Harry. Deranged, completely. I swear.

I... oh God, why is that something bad happens to you every year? I feel so... gah. I can't believe you fought them and _survived. _That must have been _awful, _and terrifying, and you made it out okay, and I'm just so grateful that you _did._

You stood up to my father. I mean, I don't think I know of a single other person who would have dared defy him, and you did it without hesitation. You managed to escape them, and sent them on a wild chase, and you _survived. _You dueled fully grown Death Eaters, and they came out worse.

Harry, I...

Oh, I don't know what to say anymore. I'm so sorry about Sirius Black. I don't know what shocked me more - the fact that you were in touch with him, or that you tried to use an Unforgivable curse on Lestrange.

And she was _taunting_ you, mocking you like you were some little child. It makes my gut roll just to think of it. She enjoyed it all, thinking that that you were going to die, and - and, oh God, it makes me feel _sick. _It really does.

Voldemort was there. He was actually there at the Ministry, and Lestrange was telling us about the pain in your scar, and she was _laughing, _and I just felt so horrified. She said he possessed you, but how is that possible? He can't have, can he? Oh, Harry, _please_ tell me he didn't...

I'm so sorry about Black, again. Lestrange told me you loved him, and she was mocking you for it, but... You lost someone you cared for. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. If you died.

Oh Merlin, I need to see you so bad, just to see that you're _alive._

I've spent the whole day lying in my bed. I felt so sick, after I heard, that I couldn't do _anything. _I kept staring blankly at the ceiling and thinking about it. And that last letter I wrote to you... oh God, I didn't really mean what I said there. I'm so glad you're okay, that you're alright, that you're alive. I didn't mean it. Honestly. It wasn't your fault - not at all. My father getting caught was entirely his own fault, and I don't blame you one bit. You were so brave, and I - I just feel so horrible. It's just amazing that you made it out alright.

I don't think I'll make it through the summer, worrying about you like this. Even if we fight at school, at least I get to see you there, to make sure you're okay. But this... I can't see you, and I can't talk to you, and I don't know how you're _feeling_.

I just have to keep telling myself that you'll be okay.

For the love of Merlin, please be okay. I can't lose you.

Love,

Draco


	25. Voldemort

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay; technical problems. Chapters should be posted regularly from now on. Thanks for reviewing!

July 3, 1996

July 25, 1997

Dear Harry,

Oh my God. That was... terrifying. I mean, I knew it was coming, that it would eventually happen, but I still wasn't _expecting _it. And now I'm in a really big predicament, and I don't know how to get out, and I don't know what to _do._

I saw him today - Voldemort. He called for me, and Mother took me to see him. I was terrified, and it was obvious he could see it. He gave me an ultimatum - if I don't do what he says, he'll kill me, and my family. My _family_, Harry. They may not be nice people, but they're still family.

He wants me to... Oh Merlin, I can't even write it down. So how the fuck am I supposed to actually do it? This is going to be impossible. And never mind that, it makes me wants to puke just thinking about what I have to do.

I don't want to do it. I really don't, but what choice have I got? Either way, someone's going to die. I don't want to kill. I don't want to be a murderer - and to say it bluntly, I don't want to be a Death Eater. If that got out, I'd be killed straightaway, but it's the truth. It fills me with dread and makes my gut churn to think about what I will eventually do. I don't suppose you know how it feels, knowing you have to kill someone.

I have a faint idea of how I might end up doing it - getting the Death Eaters in, I mean. I'm not too sure, as I don't know if it's possible, but the idea's there, and that's enough for now.

I don't even want to think about it. How am I going to go through with it? Oh God, I think I'm going to start crying, or screaming, or puking, or fainting, or something.

But it's kill or be killed. In the end, what choice do I have? I hate this.

Love,

Draco


	26. Borgin and Burke's

Author's Notes: Reviews appreciated!

August 3, 1996

July 26, 1997

Dear Harry,

You don't know how hard it's been, having to walk around and pretend I'm excited at the prospect of killing Dumbledore. It's not only that, I have to actually _think_ about it all the time, try and come up with ways to do it, make plans. It's horrible. And I don't even know if these plans will work.

I don't even know if I want them to.

Oh God, I can't believe I just wrote that. Of course I want them to. My family and I will die if they don't. But... maybe we're better off dead than murderers.

I just don't know anymore.

_Of course_ I had to run into you at Diagon Alley. I don't know if I was glad by that or not. On one hand, it's you, and I've been dying to see you all summer. On the other hand, I had other things to do, and I knew you being around would just distract me. Which it did - I kept replaying that fight in Madam Malkin's when I was supposed to be focusing on other things.

Sorry about my mother, by the way, she can be a right snob at times. It took me ages to get rid of her; ever since she heard of my task, she's been molly-coddling me like hell. She's been badgering me to tell her my ideas, but I can't risk it.

I hate myself, I really do. You should have heard the way I was talking to Borgin. I don't like the man, admittedly (I rather detest him, actually), but to get my way I had to threaten and sneer and order. It got me what I wanted, though, even if I don't know if this plan will work.

I suppose I should write the plan down. Maybe it'll let me see it from another point of view. Alright, remember that cabinet Montague disappeared in once? It's got a pair in Borgin and Burke's, and I was thinking that if they were fixed, you could go through one and appear in the other. I don't have the faintest clue how I'll fix them, but it's all I've got at the moment.

I wish things were different. I wish Voldemort was dead, I wish we were friends (or possibly more?), I wish I didn't have to kill Dumbledore.

I wish people would stop calling you this 'Chosen One'. It's complete nonsense, right? I mean... you don't _actually_ have to kill him, do you? I hope you don't. I don't ever want you to feel like this, the way I do, knowing I have to kill. It's terrible. I hope you don't have to bear the burden of it. That would be even _more_ terrible.

At any rate, I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts soon.

Love,

Draco


	27. Professor Slughorn

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! This story will only be in letters, yes, but I _might_ do a side story not done in letter format. To Semma: yeah, sure, go ahead. I don't mind.

September 2, 1996

July 27, 1997

Dear Harry,

I _hate_ Slughorn. I absolutely loath him. He favors some people above others, and it's not at all right for a professor to do that! It makes things completely unfair for the others. It's no surprise that he loves you, everyone does, but people like the Weasel girl, and Longbottom? How come they were invited to his little lunch on the Hogwarts Express and I wasn't?

Oh yeah, about that. I'd say sorry but, really, you deserved that. How stupid were you? I can't believe you followed Zabini right into our compartment. Do you know what would have happened if I told the others you were there? A lot more than a broken nose, I can tell you that. It's just... God, Harry, why do you always have to put yourself into every terrible situation?

I only found out you were there after the trunk must have hit you, so I'm assuming you heard all that about me not coming back to Hogwarts. I don't know if you've connected it to me becoming a Death Eater, but I hope not. You'd tell someone, and then I'd be in a lot of trouble.

But back to that Slugorn - argh! I hate him. And what was that, _"One of my best friends is Muggle-born and she's the best in our year!" _business about Granger? What are you, in love with her?

God, I hope not.

And I needed that Felix Felicis, a lot more than you do. This was _exactly_ what I needed for my plan to work. It would have kept me alive, but instead you got to keep it so you could win a Quidditch Match or ace a test or something equally mundane. I'm sorry, but my life's more important than a measly Quidditch match! I should have had it!

Oh well, I suppose it's too late now. I didn't expect to get lucky with this, after all. I'm back on my own, and I have to work harder than ever to get this plan into motion. I have some other ideas, but... admittedly, they're not great ones.

I've probably sounded like a total selfish prat in this letter, but I'm feeling really frustrated right now and nothing seems to be going my way. Hopefully things wlll change, but I doubt it.

Still, anything to save our lives, right?

Love,

Draco


	28. Katie Bell

Author's Notes: Next update won't be for over a week, as I will be away. Sorry. Thanks for reviewing, and please continue!

October 19, 1996

July 28, 1997

Dear Harry,

Oh, this is awful. I feel fucking _awful. _I've even been crying, if you can believe that. Ha! Draco Malfoy, crying. What a disgrace. But it's true, and I feel terrible, and nothing can fix this. It's all so... bleak.

I almost killed Katie (is that even her name?) Bell. I heard that Voldemort was getting rather impatient, and my cabinet idea isn't coming along that well, so I had to think of something in the meantime. I didn't expect it to work, but I didn't expect it to nearly kill a student, either.

Oh, I feel wretched. I'm a horrible, terrible person and I'm never going to forgive myself. I'm just not made for this - I'm not a murderer. I was very scared there for a second that she had died. And now I'm scared that I'll be caught out. I've been living this whole term being fucking scared. I hate it, and I hate myself.

I sometimes find myself thinking about maybe going to Dumbledore for help, but then I'd have to actually admit to planning his death, and that my father's a Death Eater, and that I almost killed Katie, and that I'm no better than he is. And... I guess I'm scared of admitting that. I'm scared he won't help me. And... I'm scared he won't be _able_ to help me. I mean, how can he? Voldemort will find a way to get to my family anyway.

I'm sorry I haven't written very often, but I've been busy, as you can guess. Plotting murder and all of the evil things I'm supposed to actually like doing. I've had to skip out on Quidditch, which is one of the only reasons I come to Hogwarts in the first place. The other, I'm kind of embarrassed to admit, is you.

I've just had a sudden thought - oh God - if I feel this bad _nearly_ killing someone, what's it going to be like when I actually _do_ murder Dumbledore? If I'm crying my eyes out now, what the hell will I be like later?

I don't want to think about that. I don't want to even admit to crying, but it's - it's just so _hard_. I want to die, at times. I feel so alone, and no one can help me, and there's no way out, and I'm trapped, and I'm so _tired_, and... and I want you to help me, but I know you can't. And that makes it harder.

Maybe things would be better off if Voldemort just killed me.

Love,

Draco


	29. Merry Christmas

Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing, and please continue!

December 20, 1996

July 29, 1997

Dear Harry,

Snape's been trying to interfere now. Why is it that everyone thinks I'm going to immediately tell them all my ideas? How stupid are they? As soon as they get involved, they're in danger. The more people know, the worse off they are. And while I'm not particularly close with Snape, I don't want him killed either. Though I can't tell him that, of course.

I hate this, I can't stress it enough. I'm constantly tired now. I spend half the night trying to fix that damn cupboard, and so I don't have enough energy to do much during the day. People are starting to comment on it.

Slughorn's party, eh? I don't know why I bothered trying to go. I knew there would be no useful information, it didn't seem all that fun, and I didn't like most of the people... but...

Well, you were there. I think that's why I wanted to go. And you had... you had a date. I get this weird clenching feeling in my chest when I think about that. And not only that - but you were having _fun_ with her. You genuinely liked her company, and that... well, it saddened me, because you'd never like to be around me. And it made me _jealous_ of her, and I hate feeling jealous.

I came to a conclusion the other day. About you. And how I... feel towards you. Remember I said I sort of had a crush on you? I think...

Oh God, this is mortifying.

I think it's a bit more than that. Somehow, without my knowing, it's evolved from a crush to... more.

The way I hate all the girls you spend time with? How I'm jealous of them? The way I get inexplicably near tears when I think you'd never have fun with me like that? How I want to talk to you, to confide in you, to ask you for help? How I constantly worry about you, need to know you're okay? The way I can't take my eyes off of you, and I constantly think about you? The way I want to... kiss you?

It all adds up, those things.

I think... I think I'm in _love_ with you.

And even though it feels so right, isn't it... well, wrong? Teenagers aren't supposed to really fall in love, are they? Isn't it all just meant to be hormones? But these aren't simply hormones, I know they're not. We're both boys, too, and are boys supposed to love each other? We're enemies. I know _enemies_ aren't supposed to love each other.

But then again, we don't love _each other_ do we? I love you, and that's it. You don't love me. And that hurts so much, it's worse than all of this Voldemort shit. It's a lot worse, and it's a lot harder to deal with, and I just wish... I wish you would love me back. But I know that will never happen. God, this letter is so sappy. A year ago, I would never have imagined myself writing it. Draco Malfoy, the sappy poof. Well, isn't it the truth?

Merry Christmas, Harry.

Love,

Draco


	30. Thank God for the Bezoar

Author's Notes: These letters will continue until the end of book 6. Thanks for reviewing, and please continue!

March 8, 1997

July 30, 1997

Dear Harry,

Why is it these things always happen to you? I know you're alive (thank Merlin! I had another 'couldn't breathe' episode when I first heard about the Quidditch accident), but are you okay? I heard it was a pretty bad hit, but you'll be fine. Right?

Oh my God, I'm so fucking sorry. _So fucking sorry. _I did _not_ mean for that poison thing to happen. I may hate Weasley's guts, but under no condition do I want to _kill _him. Besides, I know how important he is to you, how close you are, and that it would kill you if he died.

That was so close, I thought I might kill _myself_. This is the second student I've almost murdered, and it doesn't matter that they were both by accident. I still feel wretched, like _I _should be the one dying. I feel guilty, and terrible, and I just don't know how to make it better. I can't fix things. Bell was bad enough, but Weasley, your _best friend?_ I'd never have been able to forgive myself for doing that to you.

This is all going so horribly, terribly wrong. I was supposed to have Dumbledore dead by now, and Voldemort's getting increasingly impatient, and I'm worried he'll just go ahead and kill my mother anyway. And I've resorted to these crappy ideas - poisoned drinks, cursed necklaces? I knew they would never work, but what else am I going to? There's nothing! These fucking cupboards _aren't bloody working!_ I swear I spend more time crying in the toilets than I do trying to fix them. Everything's so _hopeless_.

And I swear you're getting dangerously close to finding all this out. Were you trying to eavesdrop on me that one apparating lesson? And when you ran into me before the Quidditch match, were you planning on following me?

I hope not. I'm in enough trouble as it is, I don't need you getting involved. _Especially_ since it would put you in even more danger.

I haven't forgotten my last letter to you, and my realization. Just, you know, thought I'd mention that.

Love,

Draco.


	31. The Cruciatus Curse

Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing and please continue!

May 7, 1997

July 31, 1997

Dear Harry,

I...

I don't know what to say.

I don't know why I'm writing this letter.

Maybe it's better to not say anything at all?

No, I need to say... say _something._ I'm not sure what. I'm not even sure how I feel. Kind of... numb, actually. Am I supposed to be feeling numb? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. How did things get so _fucked up?_

I think maybe I should be feeling angry. Or desolate. Maybe sorry? I'm not sure. Am I supposed to hate you? Am I supposed to still think I love you? Should I be planning revenge, or should I be looking forward to the next time I see you?

I'm not... feeling any of those things, really. Just... numb. Pomfrey says I'm probably in shock, and they've no doubt drugged me up with all sorts of crap. Maybe that explains why I feel nothing.

I think... I think if I could feel something, I'd feel everything I just said. If that makes sense. But most of all, I think I'd just feel confused.

I mean, I don't get it. One minute I was on my own, crying my eyes out because I knew no one would see me. I was safe, I wouldn't be found, and when I came out no one would ever know I had been crying. Then, the next thing I know, _you_ are in there with me, and you've seen me crying like a baby, and I feel this hot... feeling welling up inside me. Anger, humiliation, desperation? I don't know. All I know is that I couldn't bear knowing that you, of all people, had seen me like that. I wasn't thinking straight. I started attacking you - God, I even - I almost - I almost used the _Cruciatus_ curse, I was so far gone. I wasn't thinking - at all. I would never - never deliberately hurt you. I don't know what made me do it.

And then... I remember _pain._ I've never been good with pain. And there was lots of it. Lots of pain, and blood - the _blood. _It was _everywhere._ It was all red, and it hurt _so much_ and you were still there, and _you had caused it._

You... you were the cause of all that pain, and all that blood. And... I think I should hate you for it. For what you put me through, what you did to me. Except... I don't feel like I hate you. I just feel... numb.

Numb. Numb. Numb. Have you ever repeated a word so often that it ends up sounding like total nonsense? Numb. Numb. Numb. It doesn't even sound like a word anymore. Numb. Numb. Numb.

Oh God, I think I've gone insane.

I don't think you meant to really hurt me, either. I think that's why I don't hate you. I can't really blame you, can I? You weren't expecting to see me in all my humiliation, and I was the one who attacked you first. I think - I don't think you even knew what the spell was supposed to do. Your face... you were even more horrified than me.

I... Oh God, why are things such a mess? I don't know what's going on anymore - with anything. I'm so confused. About everything. This whole... this whole Dumbledore thing has been going on too long, and... I don't know. And things with you... well, they aren't like to improve now, are they? To be honest, do I want them to? After you've attacked me, and almost killed me, and I almost used an Unforgivable on you, and I'm about to become a murderer, and we're both soon going to be on different people's Most Wanted list, and neither of us are likely to survive this war, and we'd never work out, and your friends hate me, and you hate me, and I... I still love you.

But is that enough? I'm not sure anymore.

In any case, I'm sure you're feeling guilty about what happened. Don't. I don't know which one of us is supposed to take the blame. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, but I forgive you.

Love,

Draco

P.S. Happy birthday, Harry. (Added July 31, 1997)


	32. Ginny Weasley

Author's Notes: Bad news - I am going away for three weeks and will not be able to update. Good news - only three chapters left when I get back! Thanks for reviewing and please continue!

May 14, 1997

August 1, 1997

Dear Harry,

What is the point? Seriously. What. Is. The. Point? I spend all this time thinking of you, loving you, telling myself that I shouldn't get my hopes up, then hoping anyway, only to find... that you're with the Weasel girl. Ginny. I hate her. I fucking _hate_ her. I've got all this Death Eater shit to deal with, and now... now _this?_ I hate her. I hate her, I hate you, but, mostly, I hate myself. Whatever. It's not like you fucking care, anyway.

Goodbye, have a nice life with Weasley. I hope you both rot in hell - then, at least, I wouldn't be the only one. Although maybe it would be better to be on my own than around you two. I hate you both.

Draco


	33. The Death

Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing, and please continue!

June 22, 1997

August 2, 1997

Dear Harry,

It's over. It's well and truly over. I should feel relieved, shouldn't I? I _do_ feel relieved. I feel so relieved that I'm about to cry. Tears of relief. That's why I'm crying. Because I'm relieved it's over. Right?

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not crying because of relief. I'm crying because... because this is the end. The end of... everything. Everything I've ever known. And I am so, so scared. Nothing's going to be the same anymore, is it?

I've been branded as being involved in Dumbledore's murder. I'm hiding with Snape, the actual murderer, and in direct contact with Voldemort himself. I would be arrested on sight. I'll never have the chance to go out into the Wizarding world in the open. Everyone will know about my involvement, that it was me who was responsible for Dumbledore's death.

I don't... I don't think I can ever forgive myself. I expected it to be hard, but this... this is different. I know I wasn't the one who actually said the words, but I indirectly murdered him. I'm... I'm going to have that hanging on to me for the rest of my life. I'll never forgive myself. It'll never go away.

What happens next? I don't know. Snape has told me not to give up, that we can fix things, but I've already lost what I wanted more than anything else in the world - if I ever had it.

I just feel.. defeated. The whole year, I've held on to the hope that I would somehow find a way out of it, a loophole. Held on to the hope that your apparent obsession with me was more than just trying to prove me a Death Eater. Held on to the hope that things would be alright in the end.

I was an idiot, wasn't I?

Of course things aren't alright. They never will be, no matter what Snape says. I've lost everything, and it's all my fault. I'm never going to - I'm never going to see you again. It's strange; I can't even imagine living without you. I can't get my head around the idea. I think I might still be in shock, more than anything. I think, when that thought finally sinks in, that I'll freak out.

I always imagined that if I ended up writing a letter to you after killing Dumbledore, it would be filled with panic, half-finished sentences, nonsense ramblings, desperation, confusion. Instead, all I feel is this numbness, and kind of... finality.

It's finally over, and I don't think I've ever felt as heartbroken in my life.

Love,

Draco


	34. The End

Author's Notes: _So sorry_ for the delay in posting; _major_ technical problems with my computer. Also, sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but it's supposed to be like this. _THERE IS STILL ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO._ THIS IS NOT THE END. Please review!

August 3, 1997

Dear Harry,

This is my last letter, I guess. I'm writing it just to... just to explain things, I guess. I don't know why I actually sent all those letters. I don't think I'll ever understand why. I just thought you had a right to know the truth, whether you cared or not. The truth about me. The reasons behind my actions, the way I felt. The way I feel. I'm not expecting anything in return. I just wanted... I just wanted you to know. And now you do. I guess... I guess this is goodbye. I still love you, Harry. I think... I think I always will. You mean the world to me.

Well... I guess this is it. It's over. Finished. The end.

I love you,

Draco.


	35. The Beginning

Author's Notes: Sorry it's so late, sorry it's so short, and sorry it's so corny. But this is the end. Look out for a sequel - _just in case_ I do one. Thanks for reviewing, and please review this last chapter!

August 4, 1997

Dear Draco,

You're a git.

... but I love you for it.

Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

I love you too,

Harry

P.S. Forget the end. This is just the beginning.


End file.
